


Wine- A Love Story in Four Parts

by Sookiestark



Series: He Who Tastes Love Never Dines Alone [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Food, Food Sex, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Secret Marriage, Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2020-02-29 18:25:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18783682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sookiestark/pseuds/Sookiestark
Summary: Jaime and Brienne and some glimpses of what we didn't get to see in Episode 4.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So- I am heart-broken. 
> 
> I am writing this alternating POV between Brienne and Jaime. I have thought about this for all week and this is what I got.. 
> 
> I am putting it in my food series because wine is an often mentioned aphrodisiac and there was definitely wine. I know I already have a Jaime/ Brienne story in that collection but I am...

The first thing that Brienne is certain is that she likes the taste of wine. In one swallow, there is both sweetness and sour together. It is complicated and dark. There are tastes that are different, held together in the same liquid; oak, grape, lavender, apple and more. It is a taste that grows on you. She never had a taste for it but tonight she finds she likes it. She likes it a great deal.

The second thing she is certain is she is drunk. She felt it at the table. It was a light feeling at first. Laughter came more easily. Her face flushed pink and she could feel her skin grow warmer. It was not her first experience with drunkenness but she had learned from a few attempts when she was younger to associate the experience with humiliation and hurt. There was her presentation at Evenfall. It had been a disastrous affair, of her awkwardness and lack of grace, leading to her drinking until she was lightheaded. Young and tipsy, Brienne had believed the boys were genuinely interested in her, that they actually wanted to dance with her. The memory still hurt, remembering how pretty she felt and that they were competing for a dance with her. Brienne the Beauty.

Of course, she had overheard the boys talking about who could get the farthest with the great drunken beast of a girl. The only thing that had saved her from running from the room in shame had been Lord Renly who had danced with her. While they danced, he had told her to never be ashamed of who she was. How handsome Renly had been in gold and black! He had made her feel pretty that night and she had loved him for that.

Her other attempts at drunkenness had ended much the same; with hurt feelings and more shame. She did not care to drink wine. It made people silly and it clouded their judgment. It often made people regret. Brienne could list all the bad decisions made from drinking too much throughout history. She would stay sober and keep her wits and her judgment.

So, when Jaime tried to pour her some wine, during the victory celebration, she had covered her cup. Looking at her, he smiled, “Brienne, you should drink. We faced the dead and won. Now is the time for drinking.”

Brienne had searched his eyes to see his intention. Since Jaime Lannister had come North, he had been very different as if he was a new person. He had been respectful and he had complimented her on her skills and ability. In the past, Ser Jaime had often been sarcastic and irreverent to her beliefs in honor and loyalty. This time he had had none of that. Maybe, he had changed. Maybe facing such a foe as an Army of Dead had made him remember what was important and what being a knight meant.

Looking in his eyes, she saw the Lannister green. She saw honesty, openness, joy at being alive and the relief. Brienne also saw the attraction, that damned attraction that always was hiding behind every word, every gesture. It was altogether frightening like it was a madness in him like he would follow her to the end of the world, like he would never leave her side. It was its own kind of magic. She felt it and worse, she felt that her eyes reciprocated it. Whatever she saw in his eyes, Brienne moved her hand and accepted the cup of wine he poured. 

The wine was good and seasoned. Sitting with Jaime and Pod, she felt a sense of closeness and safety that she had not felt since she had left her father’s keep like they were a family. There was a sense of pride at how Pod had distinguished himself as a warrior. In the morning light, she had looked her squire over making sure he was not too injured. She had thought to make him a knight right there in the dawn but she had not wanted to lose him yet. There was still things he could learn with her.

Jaime had become her closest friend in the last few days. Though they did not speak much, she had begun to feel him when he was near her and could recognize when he was troubled and when he was at peace. During the last battle, she had felt there was a connection to him and they had fought as if they had been together for many years, side by side. She could not describe it but it felt good and fine. It felt like she was accepted. When he had knighted her, she had almost hugged him. Jaime Lannister had given her the one thing she had always desired, a knighthood. Jaime understood that and as he looked into her eyes, she sometimes felt that Jaime could see to her deepest secrets. Sometimes, that alone would make her blush. Brienne knew he understood her in a way that no one had ever before. 

As they talked and laughed, Brienne had looked to her Lady, Sansa, to see if all was well or was she needed. Sansa nodded giving her permission to enjoy herself. As the wine made her face warm, Brienne had thought to herself that she had made her life a very fine thing indeed. 

 

At some point, Lord Tyrion had come to the table to sit beside his brother. Brienne had seen the genuine affection they had for each other and had wondered what it might have been to be raised with a brother or sister. Someone to love you regardless and with no restrictions. It had been Tyrion's idea to play the drinking game. Pod, who had been his squire before had, laughed and drank understanding before she had that Tyrion was very good at this game. Brienne had drunk quite a bit before she realized that started to think that Lord Tyrion may have known more about people and was watching all of them in a way. She would see the ways his eyes would glance warily at his Dragon Queen or with a sweet sadness at Lady Sansa. Sometimes, she could see how Jamie and Tyrion were brothers, despite their differences. 

Brienne couldn’t remember how her virginity had come up but she had looked at Jaime. He had stopped smiling and looked too interested, too intent. Suddenly, Brienne had realized that she had drunk too much. Her judgment was not clear and when she looked at him, all she felt was want and desire. The shame of admitting she was a virgin to Jaime in front of them all was too much. Brienne realized she needed to go to her rooms and collect herself. Jaime looked at her like he was hungry and she was dinner. Brienne could barely stand the intensity of his gaze. would look away. Obviously, she was misreading him. She was letting her own fantasies interfere. It was the wine that made these feelings bubble up to the surface, not Jaime. So, she had excused herself and made her way to her rooms.

 

When Brienne hears the knock on her chamber door, she is surprised to see Jaime. There is a sense of unrealness to him standing in front of her bedroom door and she wonders if the wine has affected her sense of reality. Jaime does not ask to come in but he walks in already. In his good hand, Jaime holds wine. Brienne notices the light catching the edges of his hair. It is still golden, even if it has darkened in the winter with the lack of sun. 

“You didn't drink,” he says.

 

She wonders if he is stupid drunk or if he is mocking her. He knows why she would not drink. Brienne doesn't like to be teased. But more importantly, Tyrion had known everything she ever told Jaime. It speaks a truth to her, Jaime has been talking of her, telling his brother and dearest friend about her. She wonders how often did her talk of her. She wonders if he calls her wench, or Maid, or does he call her Brienne? There is a delicious roll of excitement in her stomach when he says her name. To think he relayed all those stories to his brother. There is a power that she has not felt. To be spoken of as a secret. To hold a place in someone’s heart. She imagines him with a softness in his eyes telling Tyrion the tales with the hint of a break in his voice. 

Jaime immediately takes off his coat. He does not ask and Brienne does not tell him to stop. She knows her mouth is open and she probably looks stupid as a fish out of water. She reminds herself to shut her mouth and watch him. There is a forbiddenness, a man in her room. Now, the man, Jaime, the one person she dreams forbidden things about, is taking off his clothes and talking about the heat. 

Brienne has always wondered what it might be like to be here with him. Sometimes, she would touch herself to these thoughts in the cold dawn. Now watching him undress and his inability to say anything except about drinking and the warmth of the room, she realizes that this is nothing like she ever imagined. It is awkward and disjointed, It is honest. She can't take it. It is painful like watching him trying to untie his clothes with just one hand, knowing he lost his hand to keep her a virgin, to keep her safe. 

“Stop!” she says.

In a sudden move, she unties his shirt. Brienne doesn't look at his eyes because she is hesitant to see the attraction. While she is untying his shirt, Jaime reaches across the space of their bodies and he starts to untie her shirt.

"What are you doing?" Brienne says, suddenly realizing that soon they will both be naked, that he is untying her shirt, that he wants to bed her. 

Her voice cracks when she speaks. In a mixture of panic and desire, she looks at him. Jaime's eyes are dark and burning. This is a man who less than a day ago saved her life countless times, a man who left his entire world to fight for the right for the good, a man she has dreamed of countless nights. She is not only alive because of him but her sword, her knighthood, her life have all been given to her by him. Jaime looks at her like she is the only thing he has ever wanted, the best thing he has ever seen. 

Jaime speaks with the determination of a man with one hand trying to unlace her ties, “I'm taking it off.”

Brienne is a warrior, a knight. She reads people and their body language. She moves his hands and unties her own shirt. Hoping her hands don't shake and if they do, he doesn't notice. She hopes Jaime does not compare her to Cersei. She knows she is flat chested, too muscular, too big. She is taller than him. But she has waited for this for so long. Queen Cersei is beautiful, all curves and golden softness.

A flash of doubt springs in her mind. Perhaps, Jaime does this because of the wine or maybe she is a wager between him and Lord Tyrion. She has an image of him dirty on the journey through the Riverlands telling her he would bed her as a way to tease her. She pushes that thought away with his eyes burning so black in the firelight and the knowledge that this new Jaime would not trick her. Jaime would not hurt her. 

She reaches for him with all the certainty of a maiden trying to not be so uncertain. He lifts his arms and Brienne helps him pull his shirt off. Brienne wants to touch his chest, run her fingers across the rides of his stomach. She thinks that she will be alright that this is what she wants. Even if he leaves tomorrow, this is what she wants. Brienne takes her shirt off and he never stops looking at her face. Her heart is beating as fiercely as it beat in battle last night. 

Jaime speaks, “I never slept with a knight before.”

“Well, I never slept with anyone before…”

"Than you have to drink.." 

 

Jaime kisses her like he has waited forever to kiss her. He is all teeth and tongue, Moving her back toward the bed, he bites her neck as he tries to guide her. Brienne can taste the wine on his lips. She thinks that Jaime Lannister is like wine, sweet and sour, complicated and dark, and he is delicious.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took so much longer than I ever thought it would.

It has been four days since the first night that they slept together and Jaime has slept beside her every night since the first one. He wouldn’t call it sleeping. Instead, he lays beside her after they have talked, made love, and bundled beside each other to sleep. It is not uncomfortable or forced. Jaime Lannister is just no good at sleeping in a bed beside another person. 

It is strange to sleep next to her. Rarely, had he slept with Cersei for an entire night. There was the time they had all went with King Robert to visit the Estermonts. One of those nights, Jaime had been foolish enough to fall asleep after they had made love. Panicked, he had woken in the dawn and Cersei had laughed but she had fear in her eyes. Later, she would say they made Joffrey that night. 

When he had recently returned to King Landing and found that King Tommen had died, Cersei had wanted him to sleep beside her every night, as if they were an old married couple, familiar and routine. But he had not enjoyed it. All the years of sleeping in camps, in tents, in a single bed in the White Tower had made him unused to it. A shared bed, big enough for two in a warm castle with furs and clean sheets, was unfamiliar and uncomfortable. So even with Cersei, he had often left her to sleep and wandered the hallways and the yard of the Red Keep. 

Jaime has not slept soundly in years and he does not expect that to change any time soon. 

The morning after the first night, Tyrion smiled at him during breakfast, almost leering. Jaime had smiled, almost bewildered, and softly said, “It wasn’t like that. Not at all. I think I love her.”

Saying the words to his brother, his only friend, Jaime felt the pressure of the meaning of them all the way to his core. Jaime was surprised he said them at all. He saw the confusion and surprise on his brother’s face as if Tyrion was meeting a stranger over breakfast. Suddenly, Jaime wished to take the words he had spoken back. Then, Tyrion smiled, a real smile breaking through his brownish beard, and felt his brother’s hand on his. Tyrion was happy for him. 

Jaime is surprised at all of it, too. He wonders if he is surprised he is in love so quickly with her or is he surprised that he can bear to sleep with anyone other than Cersei?

Sometimes, when it is late at night and he is alone with his thoughts and the gentle sound of her sleeping, he finds himself smiling at all of it, how easy it all is, how good and right it feels. He plans how he will take her one of these mornings to the godswood and have someone marry them. Jaime wonders how it will be to say the words, “I am hers and she is mine from this day until our last.” 

 

Jaime knows he will smile when he says his vows to her and she will look at him, without artifice, and promise him her whole life as if love was a simple uncomplicated thing… As if love was easy. It is easy to love a woman like Brienne. But why does she love him so much?

After all, he is the Kingslayer, the oath breaker, the murderer of his own cousin, the treasonous deviant who fucked his own sister for decades. What does she see in him that makes her brighten at his glance, glow at his touch? Maybe, he is a stranger to himself or maybe this is who he has always been. Sometimes, when Jaime looks over, he is surprised that she is still there. Sometimes, he is surprised that this has happened at all.

Jaime does not know why he thinks these things in the darkness of night. In the day, when she is near him, he feels the smile on his face. He feels worthy of all her love, her bright, untarnished love. It is like sunshine in this cold winter and it feels so good that it haunts him at night. A Lannister always pays his debts but what could he possibly give her worth the way she looked at him with such possibility, with such adoration and want. 

 

He has a slight headache and the taste of last night’s wine was heavy on his lips. Jamie wonders if it is the alcohol or the weight of what he has done that has plagued him. Every night since the first, Jaime finds himself drinking a glass or two of wine. Jaime had never liked wine as much as Cersei of Tyrion but the warm golden feeling that pushed in his chest when she looked at him was a taste he could drink again and again and again until he would fall down senseless.

In the darkness, he knows there is still some wine in the pitcher on the table beside him. Sitting up, he pours himself another glass to help him sleep. 

Absently, he scratched his beard, the smell of her sex still on his fingers. He felt a small desire flare up in his stomach at the scent memory of her and his cock moved slightly. Looking over at her, snoring slightly, vulnerable and sleeping contented, Jaime thought it strange that a woman so strong and big could look so small in sleep and how she could sleep so peacefully beside him. Why would she trust him?

When he had come here the first night, it had been with all the intention of bedding her. For a man his age, Jaime was rough at the art of seduction. He had never slept with anyone but Cersei and Cersei had always never needed seduction. On their first night together, it had been Cersei who had encouraged him with her words, hot against his ear, as he followed her commands in awkward, rushed steps. The first time with Cersei had been rushed and excited but planned. Cersei had been deliberate and every time he had hesitated or protested she had drawn him back in with her words, her body, and her love. The first time with Cersei had set the tone for the rest of their relationship. She had manipulated him from the start.

Jaime swallowed the wine in the dark, not caring for the sour taste. Thinking back on the first night, he had almost been angry at her, angry at the attraction that spilled out between them. He had told her, as plain as he could, that he did not want things growing on him. But, it was not a place that he had grown attached to but a person, Brienne. It irritated him that he felt so much for her. He wasn’t supposed to feel anything for her. Yet somehow, he felt protective, proud, attracted, happy, loyalty and this deep desire whenever he looked at Brienne. 

Since he arrived in Winterfell, Jaime had watched the red-headed wildling with jealousy. Why should he flirt with her when Jaime loved her? Why should Tormund get to woo her or bed her when Jaime would dream of her? 

He had dreamed of touching her so many times. He had ached to touch her After all, how many times had his fingers grazed her skin and it always left him with this strange longing for more; the Baths at Harrenhal when he was too weak with fever to do anything but feel her arms cradle him, her breasts pressed against his arm. 

Or in the Bear Pit when his hand grazed against her exceptionally long thighs, as he attempted to find a way to push her to safety. The forbidden feel of the inside of her thigh had immediately brought images of those incredibly, forever legs wrapped around his hips, even with an enraged bear attacking.

Or the time he had helped her into the armor he had made for her King’s Landing. His hand had shaken, still unsure how to handle the straps one-handed, and he touched the back of her neck to steady himself. He had watched the hair on the back of her neck, small, blonde, fine, stand up and he felt her lean into his touch. If he hadn’t been so worried for her and rushing for her to leave the danger of the capitol, Jaime had thought to kiss the skin there.

Or, when she had knelt before him, supplicant and wide-eyed, and he knighted her at Winterfell. Watching her, repeat the words that she had longed to say but never dared dream it might ever be possible, had been its own kind of sex. Jaime had given her what she wanted and he had been filled with a warm sense of satisfaction. When he touched her hand and helped her to her feet, Brienne was almost crying with happiness and Jaime had felt his cock harden slightly. Wishing they were alone, Jaime wanted to kiss her and push her back on her knees and teach her some other things. 

Jaime had realized he had cataloged every time he touched her and had thought about what might have happened if any of those touches had lingered. Every lonely night in Dorne, in the Riverlands, in the North, even in King’s Landing, Jaime would imagine what it would be like to touch her. He had been thinking of it for years.

And by the way, Brienne had looked at him, she had been thinking the same for as long.

 

The first night with Brienne had been like his first time all over again. When he had pushed in her room, Jaime had realized he was not as experienced as he thought. Cersei would have quickly shut the door and eagerly kissed him, taking her clothes off as quickly as possible. But Brienne was not Cersei and being a virgin, she didn’t know how to read his feeble attempt at seduction. 

Suddenly, Jaime found himself angry and awkward. He wanted to tell her but he didn’t think he could tell her why he was in her room... After all, why did he think he should be the one to bed her? What did Jaime Lannister really have to offer anyone, except a pretty face getting older every day and the wrath of Queen Cersei? So instead of trying to win her with words or romantic gestures, Jaime started pulling off his clothes with the charmless grace of a green boy, complaining of the heat, complaining of Tormund, and spilling wine as he poured it down his throat. Jaime was floundering and certain she would send him away. But, the Gods were kind to Jaime Lannister and Brienne reached for him to help him. When Brienne had started untying his clothes, Jaime had felt his cock harden, but when she started to untie her clothes, his pants strained against his hardness. 

Brienne had looked at him and it made him think he was young again, newly made in her eyes, a new knight strong with two hands and honor as white and shiny as his cloak. Anything was possible for Ser Jaime Lannister. A noble and heroic future lay in the way her eyes saw him. Jaime wanted that as much as he wanted her. To be worthy of her was as great a desire as the wanting of her.

He had kissed her, one-handed, bruised, and drunk. Wrapping his right arm around her back, he kept his left hand on her face where her skin was soft. Her lips opened for him and Jaime ran his tongue against hers. Brienne made a moan in the back of her throat

Somehow, he had pushed her against the bed. Brienne had fallen against the bed, a giggle escaping her lips. He had looked down at her, untying his pants, “Did Brienne of Tarth just giggle?”

She pulled him to the bed and kissed him. Slowly, her fingers trailed to his untied pants as she kissed him. Jaime wondered how long before she would go any further. He didn’t care, not really. They had as long as they needed and Jaime wanted to learn her. He had waited so long thinking of these random touches that he wanted to make sure he explored her, filled his memories with her touch, her smells, her tastes. 

Lingering at her breasts, Jaimie cupped one, alternating between licking softly and gently nipping at the pale pink skin. His fingers trail against her bruises, stitches, and scars from the battle. He licked her side in a long, uninterrupted trail and she arched her back, pushing toward him. He took her other breast in his hand and kissed it lightly. 

"Harder," she begged.

 

Jaime complied, tugging roughly at the soft nipple, pulling at it in his teeth. At this, Brienne reached in his pants and takes the length of him in her big hands. The feel of her hands is rough and she tugs hard against him. Gently, he takes her hand in his and shows her how to touch him. Brienne is a quick learner and he is soon breathless. Jaime stops her. It is too soon and he is sure to spill if she continues. 

Growling against her neck, Jaime commanded, “Take off these pants.”

Hurriedly, Brienne scooted her pants off in the most awkward way. All arms and legs. He bites at her shoulder and she makes a noise in the back of her throat. Jaime pushes between her legs. Anchored between her thighs, he takes a moment to admire her and he feels a huge wave of emotion and desire flood him. 

Jaime thought to push into her and feel the warmth of her but he wants to hear her cry out. Pushing his face against her sex, Jaimie licked. It is the steady pressure of his tongue, the sweet taste of woman, With his one hand, he spread her apart to get better access. He liked this act the most, a woman spread out beneath him, moving restlessly, moaning softly, as he licks her until she comes against his mouth. He likes the feel, the taste, the way woman fall apart when they come. Jaime wants to see her falling apart like he has watched Cersei so many times before. 

Jaime had only barely started when he hears her, “Jaime. Stop I can’t. I don’t know. It is too much. The sensation... It is all too much.” 

She had her fist against her mouth and her face is looking at the corner, away from him. Brienne was flushed from passion and exertion. Jaime can’t help but smile a small smile. He thinks he should continue, go back down on her until she understands what that sensation was until her orgasm creeps back up and explodes against Jaime’s tongue. But he doesn’t want to go against her wishes.

For a second, he sat, kneeling between her thighs. With his hand, Jaime touched her jaw so she will look at him. When Brienne looks at him, her eyes have grown dark and Jaime asks her, “You didn’t like it?”

"No, I liked it... It was too much. I didn’t know what to do.” 

“You don’t do anything; just enjoy it.” 

Brienne looked apologetic and speaks “Its too much.” 

Jaime kissed her softly, remembering this is her first time. Balancing himself on his right arm, he takes his left hand and moves over her sex, parting the cleft and rubbing his fingers against the point where there is a hard nub, as he kisses her softly. She moans almost immediately and he feels the wetness against his fingers. 

He was hungry to fuck her but he wanted to make sure she comes before him because Jaime has wanted this for too long for him to be anything but quick. Skillfully, Jaime rubbed the wet skin of her sex and slipped one finger inside her. Feeling her legs open wider for more, Brienne’s body knew what it wants even if she doesn’t have the words to ask. Slowly, Jaime slid another finger inside her tight, wet hole as he stroked his thumb and his forefinger against her clit. Her breath is labored and Brienne closed her eyes to enjoy his touch. He felt her moving against him in that delicious way. Jaime wanted to put a third finger inside her but she is so tight and he didn't want her to do anything to stop the way her hips are rising up against him. 

Reaching down, he kissed her breasts, the small, flat things, that he has dreamed about for years. Jaime was certain his breathing is as labored as her and his cock aches to push into that tightness. He was so hard that when her sex brushed against him for a second he is certain he has spent. But he didnt.

She tightened against his fingers, so tight, that he was unsure if he should keep moving them so deep inside her. But he did anyway. Jaime was too excited to think. Brienne raised up, arched against him, grabbing his shoulders and moaned; a soft wetness covered his fingers as proof of her orgasm. 

He licked the wetness of his fingers, Laying above her, he kissed her forehead, “Brienne, open your eyes. How do you feel?. 

Brienne was breathless and her legs folded down, collapsed under the weight of themselves. Dutifully, she opened her lovely blue eyes, glazed over with desire. 

Without thinking, Jaime kissed her lightly and spoke, “I love you.”

Jaime knew he had meant it. He had meant it all. And that had surprised him.

She was flushed, sweaty, shaking and her pupils are blown. Her face was intent and Jaime can see that she is madly in love with him. Brienne spoke in a hoarse, scratchy whisper, a soft smile on her face, “I love you too, Jaime.” 

Her words, his words, the weight of them, for two people who never speak, to say these words is too much to bear. 

Jaime pushed back down between her legs. He wanted this to be perfect, to be unforgettable. She reached for him and grabbed only the air. Looking up between her legs through her blonde pubic hair to her face. Jaime said, with a wicked smile, “Brienne... Come again. Come for me."

Pushing two fingers back inside her, Jaime licked her again. He took one hand and reached beneath her to cup her ass as she spread her endlessly long legs out for him. He swears if he has more time with her Jaime will kiss his way up and down the length of these things, even if it takes hours. 

She comes hard and fast this time. Her leg was shaking and his jaw hurt a bit. But it is an ache worth having, a victory. Absently, he climbed between her legs and rubbed his cock on her sensitive cunt. She whispered his name “Jaime.”

Lovingly, he kissed her forehead and pushes into her. She was so wet and so tight, even after his fingers and mouth. He was almost afraid to move but the tightness made him move slowly against her. He found her mouth to kiss deeply and wished he had two hands to press her against him. 

Moving against her, the wet heat, and tightness, Jaime felt lightheaded and the ache deep in his balls. Almost instinctively, he took one of her legs and gently lifted it. It helped make her wider and he can move faster, harder toward his need. She was moaning and scratching his shoulders, desperate. But, he was beyond that, driven to his and he pushes deeper, feeling the friction. Jaime felt the tightness in him, and then the ache and the release. All inside her. 

Jaime laid there, breathless against her shoulder, “Gods... Brienne, that was...” 

 

“Wonderful,” she said. 

That was the first time. There was a second and a third that first night alone. In just four days, he has bedded her a dozen times. Sometimes, she jokes that she will need to stay in bed alone to heal or she will need a pillow to ride her horse if they don’t slow down. But she is the one who reaches for him in the night whispering, "Please." 

Jaime thinks he will not be able to keep up with her and her need but every night he does. Perhaps, he is a new man with her.

He thinks back to what he said that first night, “I don't want things growing on me.”

Jaime wonders why he did it. Maybe, he had always been as bad as Cersei. He could have left her be. He could have let Tormund have her.

Brienne stirs and Jaime pushes closer to her. They sleep naked which is impractical in Northern Winters but allows them the ability to touch each other all night. Sometimes, Jaime thinks this is an extravagance, a luxury only lovers know. 

 

She rolls toward him and he looks at the purple bruise she still has from the Battle of Winterfell on her shoulder. Below that is a red mark from his teeth. Brienne runs her fingers up his back. Opening her eyes, she looks at him. 

Jaime has a terrible sense that he will fail at this. At the thought of failure, he sees the flash of Cersei’s face and his heart hurts. There is another image, a small blond-haired baby. Brienne touches his cheek. Jaime thinks to himself what kind of love could he give anyone?

Brienne smiles a small smile. She seems hesitant but her eyes are full of love. He thinks of Cersei. When did she stop looking at him like this? Did she ever?

 

She speaks, “Jaime..?”

She is nervous. Jaime has made no plans. He has not decided what his next steps will be. Will he march with Jon Snow to fight against Cersei? Will he go to Casterly Rock? Will he return to Cersei? Or will he stay here with her in the North?

He thinks about his idea of taking her down to the godswood and marrying her. There would be a future for them in Tarth or Casterly Rock, or even in Winterfell. Maybe, in that future, there would be other blonde-haired babies. But these babies would be his, that he could claim as their father.

Before she speaks, Jaime kisses her and speaks for her. “Brienne, I will stay here with you. As long as you are here, I will be here. I am never leaving you. I want to be with you all of my days.”

 

Maybe he was good enough. Maybe with enough time, Jaime would be worthy of her.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been Lady Sansa who had brought up the tea. Stupid Brienne had not thought of what might happen if she was with child. The knock of the servant bringing the package to her room had wakened her and as wrapped her robe about her, Brienne saw how dark it was. She and Jaime had come to their rooms to make love before dinner but had fallen asleep. By the look of the dark, they had slept through dinner.

She stood there by the fire holding the herbs and called for a kettle.

Tasting the tea, she had not thought it would be so bitter

 

It was sitting at the table by the fire looking into the cup that Jaime wake up to. In a boyish way, he rubbed his eyes and looked over the furs and blankets, "Brienne... Wench, what are you doing?"

He was teasing her but he was gentle, as well. He had stopped mid-joke when she answered him, "I am making moon tea."

He grew quiet and sat up, to look at her, watching the small bag of tea over the boiling water. 

"Moon tea." he had finally said. 

"Moon Tea." She had repeated firmly as if he was simple and did not understand these things. Brienne could not look at him but she spoke to the cup. "Moon tea," she said again. "It will make certain that my courses come and a baby doesn’t." 

Jaime stood and began to dress for bed, pulling his pants on. "I know what moon tea is." 

Brienne realized for the thousandth time that he knew much more about the ways of the world than her. Feeling slightly flushed she watched the way little bits of dried herbs escaped the bag and peppered the yellowish brew, She thought about the shame she had felt talking about such a thing with Lady Sansa. She hears him dress and wonders what he is thinking. Sometimes she is certain she knows what he is thinking but there are other times that he seems worlds away. She hears him sit beside her.

When she finally looks at him, Jaime is sitting beside her. He has brought a pitcher of wine and two cups. He pours her a glass first and then pours on for himself. He speaks, "You can't know yet. It's too soon." 

She looks at him. Between them is the tea, She drains the entire glass of wine, "I can't risk it. Lady Sansa needs me to help rebuild and…"

She wonders what she should say next; that she has noticed how he pulls away sometimes or when his brother or anyone speaks of King's Landing he looks toward the South, or how he never speaks of what they are doing or the future. 

Finally, she settles on, "Lately, you seem distracted."

She hates how it sounded nonchalant in her head but when spoken makes her sound so vulnerable.

He is looking in his glass as if the wine is speaking to him. Finally, Jaime looks up at her, his green eyes burning. "What if I asked you not to drink it?"

She looks at him. His face is serious, almost intense. He looks focused. It is the focused stare of Jaime Lannister that makes her breath grow shaky. It is that look he gives her when he is full of desire and he wants her to scream his name. Brienne feels her words fade from her mind and her breath rush from her lungs. She fears he is teasing her. Men have a tendency to be cruel to her. This could be a joke she does not understand. After all, he has just told her he knows much more about all this than she does. But Jaime does not seem to be teasing. In fact, the way his eyes burn, it seems to be nothing of the sort. 

He takes her hands in his and kneels awkwardly on the carpet. Finally, she finds her words, "What are you doing, Jaime?"

"Brienne, I should be getting your father's approval but Tarth is far away and I fear Lord Selwyn would never consent. But despite all that, will you marry me?"

His eyes never falter. Looking up from one knee, Jaime speaks with all the earnestness of a boy in love, not the world-weary man she knows. 

She is not laughing when she speaks, but she hopes it sounds more like teasing than what it is, “You are drunk, Jaime.”

Jaime smiles and squeezes her hand, “Aahh, you know nothing of Lannisters. One glass of wine has no effect. We are driven by stronger things than wine. I am not drunk. I want this. I want you...Not just today but every day. And any child we make will not have the luxury of being a Hill. No, I want them to be saddled with Jaime Lannister as their father and his name, as well... And I do not want you to drink the tea. I have always wanted to be a father. Please, Brienne, will you marry me?"

His voice drifts and she wonders what he is thinking. He makes no gallant gestures but his eyes hold all the happiness she has ever wanted. Slowly, he speaks, regaining his thoughts. "I swear you will be happy. You wont regret this. I promise."

"Yes!" she says, squeezing his hand.

Jaime rises so he can kiss her. The kiss is slow and soft with all of Jaime's skill.

It is a rushed affair. The Septon at Winterfell has been performing ceremonies consistently since the defeat of the Night King. They have seen plenty of weddings here, as well as in the godswood among the Northerners. However, there is no one here right now. Perhaps the wave of couples marrying has slowed. The old man raises his head when he sees them come in the semi-destroyed temple. He looks at Jaime askance and takes Brienne by the hand, “Are you certain, my child?"

There are no witnesses. Brienne thinks he will wake his brother and have him be a witness but there is no time. Jaime is rushing as if he runs from something. Looking into his eyes, she sees only Lannister green but she hears his voice beneath hers in her ears as they repeat “I am hers and she is mine from this day to the end of my days.”

For a second, she has an image of him beneath her on the bed as his hands rest gently on her hips, naked. Flesh against flesh. She had not thought she would enjoy the way he feels inside her as much as she does, the breathless feeling in the center of her. Jaime is biting his bottom lip beneath her and his eyes are closed but he whispers, “Brienne, I love you.”

Surely, this is the right thing to do. 

After he takes his old cloak and covers her shoulders, Jaime takes her face against his palm and kisses her so sweetly. He does not mind the scars on her face or the dry skin from the Northern air. Jaime whispers to her, “I love you... Wife.”

Laughing on their way back to their room, Jaime’s eyes are filled with mischief and happiness. "Come.." he says pulling her into the godswood. 

Leading her to the old weirwood that is the heartstree. Jaime teases her kissing her again. This one is longer, slower and filled with a gut-twisting heat. He says, "We must tell the New Gods and the Old that you are my bride. Lady Brienne Lannister.” 

But as he goes to kneel in the snow, she pushes him against the weirwood and kisses him. When he pulls away, he is slightly dazed and his eyes soft. She thinks it is desire, “Come, husband, I have need for you in my bed."

Laughing, eyebrow raised, Jaime spoke, “Do you?’

Now, she is in bed and he is snoring softly beside her, naked. She does not have his green eyes, full of promise to keep her company. They did not drink any of the wine in the pitcher laid out. All she has to keep her company is her thoughts. She thinks about the way his eyes drift sometimes. As dawn breaks, Jaime pulls her close and whispers into her shoulder. “I dreamed of our child, Brienne. In the godswood last night. Almost a vision. He was laughing in the surf of Tarth with your father, playing. A boy, his hair so light it was platinum in the sunlight. He was a good boy.”

She feels the smile break her face in the darkness. Turning over, she kisses him lightly on the lips. “I love you, Jaime.”

“I love you, Brienne.” 

She thinks to herself in the growing light that their love will be enough to overcome anything.


	4. Chapter 4

As Jaime readies his horse, in the dark cold night at Winterfell, he sees his breath a hot smoke like he is a dragon. He is heading South to face the Dragon Queen and her Drogon. It will not be the first time but he is almost certain he will not survive this time. Still, he readies his horse to follow the path that Jon Snow’s army has left in its wake.

A week ago, Jaime was sitting beside his brother in The Smoking Log, the only tavern in Winter Town. It was a snug and warm place and there is a sense of safety and comfort to it, the fire in the hearth casting a warm rich glow like the glow in a bedchamber. 

He had looked down at his full cup of wine. He had not touched it. The wine sat there, untouched, waiting for him to drink. Jaime had thought it was wasteful to not finish it once it was poured but that was thinking of a Northerner, of a Stark. He was not any of those things. He is a Lannister.

The Dragon Queen and her army were heading South the next day and Jaime had taken his brother out for some wine and to tell him. Jaime was not sad to see her go. He did not have a great deal of love for her. Jaime had hoped she might resemble her mother, gentle and pious Queen Rhaella or her brother, Prince Rhaegar. Though she has their look, whenever Jaime looks at Daenerys, all he sees is her father burning men Northern men with wildfire while he laughed. 

Jaime was not sad to see her go, but he was sad to see his brother depart with her. Tyrion, as her Hand, is departing in the first light of dawn. He has always loved his brother and tried to protect him but he gets the sense that Tyrion does not need him to protect him. Perhaps, Tyrion has finally outgrown him. Maybe, Cersei outgrew him as well

Jaime had looked down at the liquid into his glass and thought about drinking it. He felt hungry and did not have the taste for the wine. In fact, he felt like he had been drunk for days. He listened to his brother’s chatter, feeling the weight of the full cup in his hand. There was a familiarity to the scene and it made Jaime more than a little nostalgic. Tyrion chattering about women, wine, and a hundred other things that Tyrion found interesting. Jaime sitting there listening, laughing, and keeping his thoughts to himself. Jaime had lived his whole life keeping a part of his life secret. He never spoke of Cersei to anyone. not even Tyrion. It was a weird thing to live a double life. Jaime could never trust anyone enough to tell them how much he loved Cersei, not even his brother. However, even though he is with Brienne, he finds he cannot speak of her to Tyrion. He knows it has hurt her to keep their wedding a secret but he has asked her to until he tells his brother. But now he finds he can’t speak.

Jaime had come here with the intention of telling him what he had done and what his future plans were. However, sitting there with him, he found he could not speak of her. All he could do was hold the cup and think how nostalgic he was for the past. He was not the deepest of men but it troubled him to find he could not speak of Brienne. 

Not the idle chatter or the cheap gossip of drunk men in bars, Jaime was not going to tell Tyrion about the intimate details of her body. Jaime had wanted to tell his brother that he planned on spending the rest of his life with her. Jaime was here to talk with Tyrion about his plans for his future. Jaime had wanted to tell his brother what he had done last night and apologize for not including him.

It had been an impulsive moment. He and Brienne had snuck to their chambers in the late afternoon before dinner in the Great Hall. Since he had been sleeping with her, it had been a pattern they had fallen into where they would sneak to their shared room, make love before they dressed for dinner. After making love, Jaime had drifted to sleep while she lay next to him. He had dreamed of the sea. Jaime could not tell if it was Tarth or the shores of Casterly Rock but he could see the bright blue of the water, smell the salt in the air, feel the heat of the sun on his arms. Brienne had been there and he had known they were married. She was sitting by a window looking out over the sea. When she smiled, he felt his heart still jump after all these years. He heard the laughter of children, two boys, and a girl in Brienne’s lap. All the children had bright blonde hair almost white it was so blonde. The boy squealed with joy and raised his arms, “Papa..”

Jaime had picked him up and known that this was his family.

He had woken to her getting moon tea ready. It had been an impulsive moment by the fire, seeing all of those pretty futures washed away with some tea. In a moment, Jaime had knelt down certain she was all the future she had needed. Even though, he could still hear Cersei's voice clearly telling him, "You are the stupidest Lannister. You are a fool, Jaime." 

 

Tyrion had departed a week ago. It was a week ago that Bronn came to them in the tavern and told them Cersei had wanted him dead. It was then Jaime was certain Cersei would die when Daenerys arrived. 

He has not been able to touch Brienne since that night in The Smoking Log. Brienne has noticed. There have been nights she has reached for him and he has rolled over, complaining of a false headache. Lies are easy enough for a Lannister. Brienne's love is like being drunk. It makes him feel strong and good but it is an illusion. In the morning he will have a bad taste in his mouth and a pounding in his head but he will be heading south on the King’s road. 

 

All he can see since Tyrion left is Cersei. Jaime is flooded by memories of her, Cersei at seven holding his hand and whispering that he will be her knight and protect her when she marries the King, the night they made love for the first time when she bit his shoulder so hard it made a bruise, or after she had given birth to Myrcella and how tired and lovely she had looked holding the baby and cooing softly to their child. He can't stop seeing her everywhere. It is driving him mad and he must leave. 

How many promises had he made over the years that he would be with her always? He had given Cersei his heart, his soul, his honor, everything. 

He had dreamed of a blonde child by the sea but he had forgotten that there was another one coming. Cersei was having a baby. Now, she needed him, truly needed him and so did their child. Cersei was alone, surrounded by sychophants, mad men, and monsters; Euron, Maester Qyburn, Ser Robert Strong. They were all leading her down a path to a fiery death. Brienne had Pod, Lady Sansa and the entirety of House Stark, Lord Gendry Baratheon, her father, Tarth, and her goddamned honor. Cersei needed him, had always needed him. All she had was him. 

This had just been a momentary drunkenness. This had been an illusion, a dream. 

 

As Jaime tightened the saddlebags one last time, he had thought he had snuck out, leaving a sleeping Brienne. Rushing to return to the South, he had not left any notes. He felt a bit cowardly to not leave anything but could not think what to say, not really. How would words explain what he was doing? It was beyond words his love for Cersei. It was all instinct and feeling. She had been right all along. They were born together and they would die beside each other. 

He was readying the horse to leave when Brienne met him in the yard. 

"Why?" she asked him

Later, Jaime did not remember what he said to her. He spoke of who he truly was and all he had done for Cersei and to protect her all their life; the men he had killed, the plots he had stood beside, the madness he had allowed. Brienne had wanted to argue but she could not argue with the truth he spoke to her. In her own way, Brienne had been blind drunk with love for him, unable to see who he was, who he had always been; Cersei’s creature. It was heartbreaking her naivete and incredibly stupid. Jaime had wanted to hurt her for being such a stupid mooning cow; easily led and easily slaughtered. 

Clutching to him, Brienne had begged him to stay. Worse even, Jaime heard her say she would go with him to King’s Landing. Surely, she understood regardless of which side won that battle, Brienne would die. In a moment, he thought of how she might follow him and do something foolhardy. He remembered that night in the godswood and how after they had said their vows, Brienne had pushed him against the old weirwood tree, kissing him and calling him husband. He had had that image of a golden-haired child playing in the sapphire shore with an old man while Brienne in armor and a white cloak watched with a sad smile. At that moment, he had known he would go to Cersei and leave her, even before he had gone to the tavern and seen Bronn. 

Pulling him to her roughly, as if he might kiss her, Jaime whispered in Brienne’s ear, “I never loved you..."

It was a slash of feeling and red bright heart blood. He wounded her deeply and when he saw her face crumple into ugly tears, he wondered if she would recover from the blow. Jaime Lannister was a trained warrior and his cuts were meant to kill. 

Jaime had mounted his horse and not looked back. By the time, he reached Castle Cerwyn, he wondered how long she had stood in the frozen yard, crying. When walked the treacherous path passed the decaying Moat Caillin, Jaime wondered if she drank the moon tea once he left. But it was under the stars, after he crossed the Ruby Ford, restless and exhausted, that Jaime wondered if he should have told Brienne, who he was always so honest with, such an unforgivable lie that he had never loved her.


End file.
